Upton Sinclair - The Literate Lefty

By Mike Marino

The Socialist Garden of Literature is a rich Marxian compost that fill the literary pinata with metaphor and theory. When the pinata is struck with a stick of indignation, it explodes, with word candy flying, and begins it's rampage, a runaway river, cutting a swath through the arroyo of society. Some writers utilize magical metaphors more than others. Such is the case with H.G. Wells, who chose to disguise his theories by camouflaging them in a mysterious cloak of pure science fiction.

Still, others prefer the art of penned letters and serialized magazine articles once fame has been garnered and achieved, and only then are others willing to listen to what they have to say. Helen Keller is a prime example of this. Helen may not have been able to hear, but she could "speak" volumns adequately on many socialist issues of the day. Others prefer the platform of combining storytelling with deadpan journalism in an act of literate fornication. Such was the path chosen by Upton Sinclair, whose writings, and whose life, exemplify the highest ideals of art and activism as a weapon, and whose craft was a finely honed proletarian sword that cut deep into society and in effect, effected change.

A child of the crumbled old "Gone with the Wind" aristocratic south, Upton marched from the womb, banner held high, in 1878 in Baltimore. Little did anyone know at the time that this new life would one day wield a literary meat cleaver to change an entire industry, and in the process, hit a nerve that would resonate with the American public reaching far deeper into the soul of the American psyche than a Texas oil well.

Sinclair, the senior, was a liquor salesman, a real booster of booze, and unfortunately fell madly in love of his own product, the product that in the long run would do him in when he expired from the cumulative effects and in the process, literally drank himself to death. Mama Sinclair was liquor free, and a drug free kind of woman. Prior to the drunken demise of Sinclair the Senior, the family bolted from Baltimore and made tracks for New York, where the literary winds blew strong all day long, and filled the young creative sails of Sinclair with magic, so much so that by the age of 15, he had already embarked on his literary voyage and was writing dime novels.

Sinclair attended NYC College, but in 1897 enrolled in Columbia University and financed his studies by writing hack fiction for pulp magazines, and lighter fare for various boys weeklies. He also began studying and mastering the French language, the language of romance. The call of the wild, or rather the call of the wild romance tugged at the hearstrings as the 20th Century dawned and bid a fond adieu to the 19th. By now, Sinclair was hooked into a marriage that was destined to fall apart by 1911. But...as all good writers who write from experience, it led to the writing and publication of "Sprintime and Harvest," about two penniless lovers. The marriage not only gave birth to the small novel, but also gave birth to a son, David.

A few weak attempts at fiction proved unsuccessful, and failure was not a stranger to Upton. He felt he was a failed writer, and a failed poet. So he decided to switch gears from romance and poetry, and by 1904 moved towards the realm of realistic fiction. He read socialist classics and literature, and socialist populists weeklies. Though never an avowed Communist, Upton was frequently pictured as a violent revolutionary.

He wrote a novel depicting the Civil War, but it was as successful as the Confederacy. Then as in all lives the fork in the road appears, and with Upton that turning point came in 1906 with the publication of the novel.."The Jungle" which was a scathing report on the conditions in the Chicago meat-packing industry. The book was more than an "interesting read", it was a sword that cut a swath through an industry and led to the implementation of the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906. Then President, Big Stick Bullmooser, Teddy Roosevelt called Sinclair to the White House for a sit down to go over what he had seen and described. Needless to say the public was clamoring for this book and the proceeds enabled Sinclair to establish and support the socialist commune, Helicon Home Colony in Englewood, New Jersey. It was a commune designed primarily for left wing writers, but it burnt down in 1907 and Sinclair was, once again spare change broke down on his literary luck. (There will be a separate articl on Helicon and other socialist utopias in the near future!) Upton was no on a roll. The path he was now blazing dealt with society and it's various injustices. "Metropolis" for example, no, not the Fritz Lang film about the False Maria, this "Metropolis" stripped away the nickers and facade of fashionable New York society. "King Coal" followed in 1917 about a Colorado miners strike in 1914, and of course, "Oil!"

Then along came the book "Boston." It was a provocative book about the Sacco-Vanzetti case that caused public outrage in the 1920's for it's defense of them. Other writers who supported them were John Dos Passos and Dorothy Parker. The post war era gave the reading public "Jimmie Higgins" published in 1919. It was an introspective look at the dilema facing American Leftists during the conflict who felt temporarily obliged to support the ruling classes of England and France during WWI, affectionately known as "The Great War."

The Dustbowl Thirties saw farm foreclosures, poverty, breadlines, hobos riding the rails and of course a hallelulia chorus singing Woody Guthrie songs. Unions were on the rise and Progress politics were winning over farmers unions and industrial unions. The WPA was full tilt boogie and soup kitchens were king. The time seemed right for Upton to run as governor of California with it's plethora of produce production, farmers, workers, and immigrants who would all surely vote for him on the Socialist ticket in 1934.

He did get 900,000 votes but it was still a failed attempt. Talk about dirty politics, it was at it's heyday back in the day. He was accused by detractors as an advocate of free love.(That alone would have gotten my vote, and probably yours too!)

His pen then became a recruiting tool as witnessed by his novel the Flivver King (1937) which was used in the union organizing campaign of the Ford Motor Company. Then another war, a world wide conflagration brought about his novel "Dragons Teeth" in 1943 where he made the comment that "Adolph Hitler looks like Charlie Chaplin, except Hitler has no sense of humour." He did get the Pulitzer for this book and is the only literary award he would ever receive.)

After the hot war, the chill of the Cold War blanketed the planet in a battle of wills for the hearts and minds to join the camps of either Communism or Capitalism. Nukes poised to strike on either side of the planet to obliterate the other side of the planet, and it was during this Cold War that Sinclair started corresponding with Albert Einstein and Robert Oppenhiemer about a details for a book on the devolopment of the atomic bomb.

Upton was wearing down in the literary whirlwinds of salons and NYC, and in 1953 he went to live in a remote Arizona village called Buckeye, and devote the rest of his days to putting his memoirs to paper. As the psychedelic Sixties dawned, he published "MY LIFETIME IN LETTERS," his autobiography where he said, "In politics and economics I believe what I have believed ever since I discovered the socialist movement at the beginning of this century.

Upton died in his sleep on November 25, 1968 in a nursing home. One quote by him seems to stand out more than others, and sums up the power of his writing style. Regarding his book "The Jungle" Sinclair once said..."I aimed at the public's heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach." Not bad for a literate lefty.